


Empty Chairs at Empty Tables

by ComingandGoingByBubble



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: Gen, mention of self harm, spoilers for the ending of part 4, this is very sad, zelda has bad coping skills
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 19:48:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29337801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ComingandGoingByBubble/pseuds/ComingandGoingByBubble
Summary: It had been hard enough to grapple with the reality that Edward had died, and the remorse she had felt over that. The tension between her and Diana, and to an extent the tension that had developed between herself and Edward. She had just gotten settled into the role as head of the household, just eased into his footsteps and his ghost had all but faded from haunting her, and now? Now she was supposed to deal with losing Sabrina on top of it.Another seat at the table left empty.Post Part 4, Zelda deals with the loss of Sabrina.
Relationships: Edward Spellman & Zelda Spellman, Hilda Spellman/Zelda Spellman, Sabrina Spellman & Zelda Spellman
Comments: 6
Kudos: 21





	Empty Chairs at Empty Tables

**Author's Note:**

> Originally I was just going to rant about the seating arrangement of the kitchen table, but then it turned into this. Consider this my way of trying to rationalize what happened in Part 4 because I'm still confused and angry. Also I just wanted more of Zelda, so here you go.

Empty Chairs at Empty Tables:

Within a few days after Sabrina’s funeral, Hilda and Dr. Cee moved back into the mortuary. Zelda did not mind the company, in fact she was grateful for it, for she’d rather not have to think about answering phone calls for the mortuary on top of burying herself into her work at the Academy while at the house.

It would be a welcomed change to the stony silence to have them bustling about, some noise and movement she could drown out with her work, seeing as Ambrose rarely left his room these days. What she was irked by was Hilda’s insistence that they all eat at the kitchen table for meals.

She had done this after Edward had died, Zelda remembered all too well. Insisted, pleaded that Zelda eat at the table, partially so she could make sure her sister ate something all day, and so that they could see one another. 

Zelda had resisted that at first too. Refused to sit in Edward’s seat, feeling as though she was trespassing on a place that was not hers. She put baby Sabrina in the middle of the table, blocking her view of the chair so she didn’t have to think about it, but once Sabrina got bigger, Zelda reluctantly took the seat that her brother had left vacant. 

It had felt odd, sitting where he had once sat. Seeing the kitchen from this new perspective. It left a bad taste on her tongue. She supposed that it solidified her position as head of the household, a role that she accepted nonetheless but had not trained for, nor wanted.

Edward had occupied it for so long ever since their Father died that it felt strange to Zelda that now she herself should sit upon it. Zelda had spent so many years beside Edward, as his right hand in almost everything, the learning at the Academy, the Coven, his teachings, everything except his marriage to Diana. 

Zelda still remembered one night when she came home from teaching at the Academy, having gone through a revision of Edward’s work and ready to give him her critique, when she came into the kitchen to see Edward, with Diana sitting on his right, in her seat. 

She could sense the mortal as soon as she entered but she had assumed it had been some local townsfolk here for the mortuary, for some sort of business, but when she had stumbled upon Edward and Diana sitting together, Edward’s hand clasping hers, Zelda was flummoxed. 

As long as she had known her brother he had been fixated on his work, on the Coven, on retaining and honoring the Spellman family name. She had never seen him in love before. Not once. He had been seeing Shirley Jackson as of late, but Zelda never thought that was going anywhere. It was just a bit of fun. Besides Edward never strayed from his work…. but now this… this mortal had caught his eye. 

She had been coolly cordial, of course. She hadn’t wanted to incur Edward’s wrath at her being unpleasant to this mortal, Diana was her name. She hadn’t kept the surprise off her face when she had found out that Hilda knew about Diana, that Edward had told her a few days ago, and not Zelda. 

As soon as Edward escorted Diana out of the house, Zelda had rounded on him. 

“Consorting with mortals, are you out of your mind, Edward? You are a high Priest of the Church of Night, Headmaster at the Academy of Unseen Arts, a respected member of this coven! You could have any witch you wanted, and you’ve chosen this… this mortal?”

“I don’t expect you to understand, Zelda.” Edward met her gaze. 

“Then please, by all means, explain it to me,” She demanded with a huff, her tone acidic. Luckily enough she had a cigarette in her holder, and she pressed it to her lips, inhaling deeply to try and keep some semblance of calm. 

Edward sighed, shutting the porch lights off with a flicker of his fingers towards the switch. 

“Witches and mortals don’t have to be so separate. We all live upon this Earth we should be able to freely live with one another, whomever we choose.”

“Mortals have been burning and persecuting our kind for eons,” Zelda pointed out sharply, “I don’t think they’d take kindly to knowing that their neighbors are witches. Tell me, does she know?” 

Edward’s silence was answer enough.

“Do you believe she’ll still have you if she knows?” Zelda asked.

“I plan on telling her soon.”

“Oh, brilliant,” she snapped, nearly throwing her cigarette to the ground as she marched towards him, “You are going to tell your mortal fling that you’re a warlock, no, the High Priest of the Church of Night, and she’s going to be just fine about it. You have no hesitation as to whether or not she’ll go running for the hills, expose the entire Coven, and get us all killed? Or worse, risk the Dark Lord’s wrath?”

“I believe that The Dark Lord sent Diana to me, Zelda.”

That stunned her. She took a step back, scrutinizing him, trying to see if she had heard right.

“What?” 

“The Dark Lord wants me to revitalize his teachings. Make our kind not so closed off to mortals and other supernatural beings. I believe he sent Diana my way because He thought it would be a good example if I married a mortal woman. He’s given us his unholy blessing to marry and she’s to follow down the Path of Night.”

Zelda took a moment to process that, but once she had, she only had one question to ask.

“In exchange for what?” 

Again, silence.

“He never does anything without wanting something in return,” she stated and when her brother again said nothing, she felt some sort of fear.

“What have you gotten yourself into, Edward?” 

Genuine concern filled her then, deep concern and she reached a hand for Edward’s shoulder, but he pulled back.

“Never you mind, Zelda.” He sighed, moving past her.

Zelda turned around to face him, following him back into the kitchen, taking another drag of her cigarette. She didn’t sit in her chair though, not when it smelled of that mortal woman now. She stood near the counter, fuming, trying to process all of this.

“Do you love her, even if the Dark Lord sent her your way?” she asked just as Edward was sitting down at the table. He put his head in his hands for a moment before raising his head to look at her.

“Yes. I do. I love her.”

“And if she rejects you?”

“She won’t.”

“But if she does, are you prepared for what could happen? To us, to the Coven? Even if this is the Dark Lord’s plan- “

He snickered at that, and she frowned deeply, half wanting to go over there and smack him. Instead she took another drag of her cigarette and straightened her back.

“You worry too much, Zelda.”

“You can thank Mother for that,” she quipped darkly though she wished she had not said it. 

Edward’s face softened. “I know you mean well, but you have to trust me on this.”

Suppressing a scoff, Zelda allowed herself to roll her eyes at that. 

“I can only assume, that this is why you told Hilda first instead of me?” she asked, accusatorily, placing a hand on her hip, taking another inhale of smoke. 

“She was… less angry with me than you are.”

“Of course, she was,” Zelda rolled her eyes, “Hilda just wants you to be happy. My job is to remind you of your duty, to our family, our coven.”

“And what if I want to start my own family, with Diana?” Edward challenged, taking a sip from his glass of gin that he had left on the table.

“Children? Children who would be a half witch-half mortal? A child with a duality with that would have a target on their back for the entire life, why would you subjugate a child to that?” She was sure her eyes were wide, but she was deadly serious with her question.

“Because I love Diana, because I want a family with her.”

“And if the Dark Lord is displeased with your growing family?”

Something dark crossed her brother’s features then, something quick and fast that Zelda did not have the time nor the information to decipher, but it was enough to leave a gaping hole in her stomach at its implications.

“He won’t be,” said Edward simply, finishing off his drink and leaving her in the kitchen alone. 

* * *

After that conversation, Edward spent less and less time at home, his place at the table remaining vacant for many meals. After he married Diana a few months later, he rarely came at all. 

Zelda kept his seat vacant in case he did come over for the occasional visit. 

But then came Diana’s pregnancy, and along with it, Diana’s request to have Hilda to be her midwife, and not Zelda. Not that Zelda minded, particularly, she was far too busy at the Academy to attend to Diana, Hilda had far more free time than she did, but she would have thought that Edward would have insisted on Zelda being Diana’s midwife, after all she had never lost a babe.

Still, seeing the joy on his brother’s face about the soon to be arrival of his child buried the annoyance deep down for a time. 

That is, until three days after Sabrina’s birth, Edward suddenly showed up in Zelda’s room with Sabrina in his arms. She remembered it all so hazily, it had been too much information, and yet not enough. He needed her, his sister, to bear witness for Sabrina, but as to what he did not tell her until they reached the woods, and Zelda saw the altar in the clearing.

“She’s a child, Edward!” Zelda protested, wanting to wrench the babe out of her brother’s arms. She had only been with Sabrina for a few minutes, she and Hilda had been there through the labor, but she had allowed her brother and his wife some time with their new child and so her time with her niece had been limited, but Zelda was already fiercely protective of her. 

“I have to, Zelds.”

“She should be able to make the choice, as she is half witch, half mortal,” she reasoned as the wind picked up and blew through the trees. Zelda shivered and pulled her coat against her tightly, wondering how much time they had for her to convince Edward not to do this.

“I know, I know she should, but I can’t… she can’t. Sabrina must follow the Path of Night, Zelda. At all costs. For all of our sakes.”

Before Zelda could respond, the overwhelming smell of brimstone and fire filled the woods. She ducked her head down, not wanting to look upon the Dark Lord, especially since she had now been roped into bearing witness. 

“Edward Spellman, do you present your child, Sabrina Spellman, and her soul unto me here tonight in these woods?” The Dark Lord rasped.

Zelda found herself speechless, staring at her brother. 

“I do.”

“And your witness?” The Dark Lord turned his head towards Zelda, and she ducked her head, looking at the ground. She felt sick. This shouldn’t be happening. Sabrina should have a choice. 

It all made sense then to her. The terrible truth dawned on her then, the pieces coming together that she should have put together long before this. This had been His Plan all along. This was the bargain Edward must have struck in order to marry Diana. Selling his daughter’s soul.

“My sister, Dark Lord. Zelda Phiona Spellman.”

“Sister Zelda.” She could feel his eyes on her, the heat of his gaze and of his presence. She still couldn’t raise her eyes towards him, instead she looked towards Sabrina, nestled quietly in a blanket, sleeping in Edward’s arms. 

“You bear witness to your brother handing over his daughter to the Path of Night. Look upon him as he signs her name.”

Zelda’s jaw tightened then. She could not refuse the Dark Lord, nor could she refuse her brother. She was in no position to do so. 

Slowly, she raised her eyes from Sabrina, and looked upon her brother. Edward’s face was pained for a moment, but then he resolved himself, and Zelda watched as he wrote his daughter’s name in the Book of the Beast, having placed Sabrina upon the altar before doing so. 

With a crack of fire, and once again the smell of brimstone, the book and Dark Lord disappeared. Edward scooped up Sabrina in his arms, and Zelda was left standing there, trembling.

“Not a word, Zelda. To anyone. To Diana. To Hilda. To Sabrina herself. She must never find out,” Edward pleaded, and for a minute Zelda didn’t recognize the man in front of her, the scared, tortured man who given up his daughter’s soul. 

“She shall choose the Path of Night willingly. She shall watch me, her father, a High Priest and become enthralled with it, she will choose the path, I know it.”

Zelda said nothing to that, said nothing to her brother. All she did before she walked back to the house was kiss Sabrina on the forehead lightly, for it was the only kind thing she could do for the babe at this moment. 

* * *

After that night, Zelda had trouble sleeping. She was up at all hours, finding herself at the kitchen table, staring at Edward’s empty seat and wondering how the brother she had grown up idolizing could have done something as wicked as that. 

A few months went by, Hilda had gotten letters from Diana about Sabrina, and of course they had seen her for some festivities, but then came that awful day.

It had started out as normal. Zelda knew that Edward and Diana were to go to Rome, to visit the AntiPope. She hadn’t expected any trouble. 

She had been sitting in her seat when she heard the cries of a baby from the foyer. Exchanging glances with Hilda, they both rushed to the foyer, to find Sabrina in a bassinet on the floor.

“Why, it’s Sabrina,” Hilda cooed, delighted but confused. 

Zelda was alarmed. She picked up the child carefully, tutting to her until her cries stopped, but she couldn’t ignore the sinking feeling that something was terribly, terribly wrong. 

When Faustus had visited them later that day, to tell them that Edward and Diana’s plane had gone down, Zelda had already assumed the worst. Why else would Sabrina be teleported to the house? To their care?

Faustus mentioned, amidst the news that he would be taking over for Edward as High Priest, that Diana’s family had contested to have the child, which Zelda denied resolutely and adamantly. 

“No, we shall raise her.”

Since then, Zelda had occupied Edward’s seat at the head of the table. 

Except for those first few months, when the pain was still raw and looking towards the seat meant facing the ghost of her brother and all that came with it. Those days, when the grief was too much, she put Sabrina in the seat in her highchair, so at least some part of Edward still occupied that space. 

The rest of the seating developed naturally from there on, at least around the table. Once Ambrose was sent to them, he took the red velvet bench, for he liked to lounge on it and eat his breakfast. Hilda remained on the left, close to the phone in case anyone called, in a chair identical to the one that Zelda had once called her own. Edward’s chair was different, sterner, not as relaxing on her back as the other one had been. 

And once Sabrina got bigger, she took Zelda’s place on the right. Every birthday, meal, teatime, the order had been just that. Zelda in the middle, Hilda on her left, Ambrose across from her, and Sabrina to her right. 

And now, now that Sabrina was gone, Zelda didn’t know if she could take even being in the kitchen anymore.

It had been hard enough to grapple with the reality that Edward had died, and the remorse she had felt over that. The tension between her and Diana, and to an extent the tension that had developed between herself and Edward. She had just gotten settled into the role as head of the household, just eased into his footsteps and his ghost had all but faded from haunting her, and now? Now she was supposed to deal with losing Sabrina on top of it.

Another seat at the table left empty.

No. She couldn’t do it.

* * *

“I was thinking…” Hilda had all but barged into her room, hanging in the doorway, unannounced and uninvited. They were still sleeping separately, since Dr. Cee was here, but she annoyingly came to check in on Zelda.

“Whatever you were thinking, it doesn’t matter.” Zelda snapped while she glanced at the papers she hadn’t yet corrected, nor even begun to look at.

“We should have a brunch. You need to eat,” Hilda continued anyways, as if Zelda hadn’t said anything, which only made Zelda set her jaw tighter. She did not look at her sister, focusing her eyes on the papers until the ink turned into blotchy stains in her eyes.

“No.” 

“Zelds…”

“I said no, Hildegard.” Her eyes flashed and she got up and shut the door in her sister’s face. 

Zelda made her way back to her bed but Hilda’s voice stopped her.

“I lost her too, you know!” Hilda got out in a blustery, cracked voice that Zelda could tell was being accompanied by tears. “We all did. But we can’t stop living. She wouldn’t want that.”

Zelda marched back towards the door, still in her nightgown and robe for she hadn’t seen fit to make something of the day, it was after all the weekend, and she wasn’t needed at the Academy. The papers had been a distraction. The truth of it was that she hadn’t been sleeping ever since… what happened with Sabrina. Not at all if she was being truthful. 

Sometimes she lay awake at night and remembered all the times Sabrina had played her music too loudly, that bumbling pop music she liked to listen to with her mortal friends, or she’d remember the times that Sabrina would come running in scared from a nightmare. Zelda recalled the little footsteps echoing across the hall that alerted them along with a high pitched, “Aunties!”

Other times she’d remember hearing Sabrina cry from her room, Hilda comforting her, but then Zelda would always go in to double check to make sure she was really alright. Or the times she would catch an infernal mortal’s illness and be bedridden. All she wanted was Aunt Hilda’s soup, and for Aunt Zee to read to her. 

She had spent the week before Sabrina’s funeral consulting any and every book she had seen, anything for a resurrection spell, a bargain, a plea. She’d make a deal with Hecate if she had to. Zelda had even summoned Baron Samedi, whatever their name was, and begged, pleaded for them to bring Sabrina back, but there was nothing that could be done. 

They tried the Cain pit. Any resurrection spell that they knew of. Made offerings to Hecate, Madam Satan, even Satan. All were refused for some unknown reason. 

Both parts of her had died, Sabrina Morningstar and Sabrina Spellman. They had died separately and could not be brought back together as one. 

Zelda didn’t fully understand, nor did she want to. All she knew was that her girl was gone and wasn’t coming back, and that hurt more than anything in this world. She’d take her Harrowing a million times over if it meant she could see Sabrina one last time, if Sabrina got to live a full, happy life.

For all her obstinance and tenacity, Sabrina had reminded Zelda so much of herself. Her courage, bravery, dedication. 

Her kindness had been the virtue that Zelda knew wasn’t hers but was grateful that Sabrina possessed an abundance of it. Although she grew many a time weary of the injustices her niece fought against, she would never deny how proud she was when Sabrina rose victorious from each one. 

She had been strong. Strong, and kind. 

Zelda pushed back her thoughts, yanking the door open to face a teary-eyed Hilda. 

She half thought about lying to Hilda, saying that she had already eaten, but she knew that Hilda would see through that. She had already seen through her lies about her cat o’nine tails, it was hard to lie about the sounds of a whip cracking on skin when the house had stood in utter horrid silence since Sabrina had died. 

“I don’t…” She paused, licking her lips, tears threatening to fall. “I don’t know if I can stand to look at her chair.”

Zelda took a shaky breath after that, tears falling freely now, and she cursed herself for it. 

“We’ll do it together. All of us. You, me, Ambrose,” Hilda stammered with a watery smile. 

She reached out and took Zelda’s hand. Zelda nodded, squeezing it tightly.

“Besides, Dr. Cee has made a wonderful brunch. We made those pastries you like so much,” she rambled while pulling Zelda out of her room. Zelda didn’t have it in her to stop her. She was so tired. 

She saw that they all were still dressed in their nightclothes, a fact of which she was quite glad of, for it made her feel a bit better that no one else could muster up the energy to actually get dressed in the wake of what had happened. 

The kitchen smelled heavenly, and Dr. Cee gave her a warm but hesitant smile as he bustled about putting the food on the plates for them to eat.

Ambrose sat with his back turned, his gaze occasionally glancing over to where Sabrina had once sat. 

Vinegar Tom came over to her at once, nuzzling at her ankles, and she picked him up gingerly. He licked her face, wiping off the tears. 

She slowly walked to the table, going around on Hilda’s side so that she didn’t have to look at the chair Sabrina sat in. She knew if she did, she’d seen that pale face framed with that bright blonde hair, and that ever so charming smile, and her heart would break all over again. 

She sat down quietly, letting Vinegar Tom sit at her feet, whining ever so softly. He had been whining ever since they had found Salem day four days ago. Zelda had found him, curled up on the foot of Sabrina’s bed, not moving. 

Sometimes at night, she snuck into Sabrina’s room and would laid on the bed like she used to do when Sabrina was really sick and pretend that she was still there, that she was just sleeping right beside her, and that she would wake and Sabrina would be there, smiling and getting ready for school. But Zelda would just wake up to a cold nothingness and tears. Tears and grief and guilt. 

She had failed. 

Failed Edward. Sabrina. Herself. 

Her lips twitched at that, and she heard Vinegar Tom whine once more. 

Ambrose caught her gaze as he sat there, staring at his still filled cup of coffee. He looked just as devastated as Zelda felt.

“Alright, we’ve got everyone’s favorites,” Dr. Cee’s voice startled them both as Hilda took her seat on the left. 

None of them could look at the empty chair directly. Hilda kept her gaze towards the window, Ambrose stared at his cup, and Zelda stared at the markings in the table. 

Soon enough Dr. Cee had passed around everyone’s favorite foods, and Zelda lit a cigarette then. It was all she had been surviving off of, nicotine and gin, and the endless feeling of remorse and guilt that the seventeen-year-old child that she had cared for, raised, and loved was now dead. She hadn’t the stomach for food. 

If Dr. Cerberus had any opinions about her smoking before eating, he kept them to himself. 

Ambrose and Hilda slowly began to eat while Zelda smoked. For a minute, life felt normal. Or at least however normal things could be considering the circumstances. 

But then Dr. Cee made to sit down… in the only empty chair at the table. 

Zelda nearly lunged for him; her eyes afire.

“What in the name of Hecate do you think you’re doing?!” she hissed at him, and immediately he paused, realizing his faux pas. 

“Zelda, for Heaven’s sake, how was he supposed to know?!” Hilda snapped at her side, tears once again in her eyes. “The man made us breakfast and you’re going to tear his head off for sitting in…”

“Say it, sister,” Zelda demanded, not once taking her eyes off of Dr. Cee. 

“Sabrina’s chair…” Hilda blubbered. 

The man, to his credit, looked genuinely abashed and sorry. Immediately Ambrose offered him a seat on the bench, but it was much too small for the both of them. 

Dr. Cee eyed the counter and stool. 

“I can sit over there, if you’d like, Zelda.”

Zelda took a drag of her cigarette to keep her tears in.

“I think you’d better,” she ground out. 

Dr. Cee nodded and did as he was told. 

Breakfast was finished in stony silence. Ambrose was the first to leave, escaping to the embalming room, and then Hilda to her botanical rooms. Zelda had eaten nothing.

Dr. Cerberus was cleaning up the plates while Zelda sat there for a moment, finishing her cigarette. When he turned away to put some towels in the laundry basket for washing in the next room over, it was then that Zelda allowed herself to look to her right.

An empty chair was all that was there. Not even the ghost of Sabrina, not a memory, nothing. 

The pain was too much then, so much, and Zelda closed her eyes, fighting off tears. She dropped the cigarette and her holder onto the table, and with her hand she reached out towards Sabrina’s place at the table. Her fingers shook against the wood, as if they too could feel the emptiness. 

“I had the same trouble, when my Mother passed.” Cerberus’s words startled her, and Zelda gasped, she hadn’t been expecting him to come in so soon. Quickly, she raised her hand to her eyes, trying to get rid of the tears, but she knew he had seen them. 

He stood a good few feet in front of her, in front of the table, his eyes sad but understanding. His hands folded in nervousness at his stomach.

“It’s hard when you have a table like this, and you get used to someone specific sitting there every day. To see it empty, to see it without them, is a pain unlike any other. Having a reminder like that every day is torture.”

Zelda sniffled; she couldn’t argue with that sentiment. As much as she wanted to say something snarky to the man, she found that she couldn’t, for he was being sincere.

She wiped at her eyes again.

“You know… “ he took a few steps forward, “although it may look like an empty chair, and in reality it may be an empty chair, but those we love are never truly gone if we still hold them in our hearts and remember them.”

Zelda couldn’t tell if it was Vinegar Tom or herself that let out a pained whimper at that, but soon enough, her eyes welled up with tears once more. 

Cerberus handed her a handkerchief, which she took rather hastily. 

“You all loved her so much. But she is here. She will always be here, with you.”

He left her after that, bringing another set of towels to the laundry room or to check on Hilda, and Zelda sat at the table a few moments more before she collected herself. 

She stood straight, relighting her cigarette as she did so. Vinegar Tom nestled in his bed in the corner. As she turned to leave the kitchen, she could have sworn that she saw a flash of blonde hair tucked beneath a black headband, and that joyous laugh she loved to hear so much.

Perhaps Cerberus was right. Sabrina would always be with them, even if her seat at the table would forever remain empty.


End file.
